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Claiming Her Cowboy

Page 10

by Tina Radcliffe


  He narrowed his eyes. “What sort of contraband do you have in there?”

  The hardware creaked when she eased the door open.

  “Come on,” Lucy whispered.

  When he didn’t move, she grabbed his shirt and yanked him into the darkness before closing the door behind them.

  The space was tight and she could sense when Jack turned slightly, as if trying to orient himself in the shadowed space. When the light came on, he blinked, shielding his eyes with a hand. He stepped back and knocked into her shoulder with his arm. “Sorry.”

  Lucy froze, caught in his gaze. His dark eyes widened, as he stared at her. Could he hear her heart beating out of control? She inched away, her back against the shelves.

  This was a very bad idea. What was she thinking? How long had it been since she’d been this aware of a man? Too long. Why did it have to be this man?

  Jack stared at her, and then his gaze slowly moved to the shelves behind her. The moment between them disappeared as his lips parted in amazement.

  Lucy waited for the inevitable.

  “Whoa. What is all this?” he said.

  “Shh.” She cringed and faced the shelves for the first time in three years. It was exactly as she’d feared. Nothing had changed. Every single space from top to bottom had been claimed. Even the floor was knee-deep in boxes.

  Suddenly she saw everything through Jack’s eyes, and humiliation slammed into her. Heart hammering, Lucy leaned over to catch her breath. “I didn’t know what to do with everything when we called it off.”

  “Are you all right?” Jack asked. “You’re hyperventilating.”

  She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and nodded.

  “Are these wedding gifts?” he murmured.

  “No. I returned all the gifts, along with apology notes.”

  “Then what is this stuff?”

  “I’d been collecting things for months in preparation for...for our life. Our future together.”

  He eyed the appliances, towels, and blankets. “Why didn’t you donate everything, or use it at the ranch?”

  “Opening this closet was a reminder of my impaired judgment. It was easier to lock everything up and turn the key than deal with my issues.”

  “You haven’t opened this door since then?”

  “Correct.”

  Awkward silence fell between them.

  Finally Jack brightened and opened his mouth. “You could always repurpose everything if you turn the lodge into...”

  “Thank you, but no.”

  Jack stared at her. “Have you moved on or not?”

  “I have.” Lucy straightened.

  “Great.” He picked up a large package of chocolate bars, which had been tucked into a sealed Ziploc bag. “What’s the expiration date on chocolate?”

  “I don’t know. Everything you see has been in here for three years.”

  “Three years!” His eyes widened. “What was this chocolate for?”

  “Favors. They’re engraved with our initials.”

  Jack inspected the fancy monograms on the silver and white wrappers. “Are you opposed to eating them?”

  She stared at the bag in his hand and hesitated only a moment before responding. “White, milk or dark?”

  “I’m a dark chocolate guy.”

  “That’s my favorite, too.”

  He handed her the plastic sack. “I think you should be the one to open the bag.”

  Lucy stared at the chocolate for several moments before unzipping the top and offering him a bar.

  Jack tore open the wrapper and took a tentative bite. “Pretty good.” He frowned. “I take that back. This is amazing chocolate.”

  Lucy bit into hers, releasing a flood gate of tamped-down memories and emotions. She chewed and swallowed, savoring the rich flavor. “Of course it is,” she said to Jack. “Did you read that label? Imported from Belgium. His mother insisted.”

  “Highbrow?”

  “One hundred percent.”

  “What did he do for a living?”

  “Attorney.”

  When uncontrolled laughter spilled from his mouth, Lucy slapped a hand over his lips. “Quiet.”

  Jack gently removed her hand. His eyes locked on hers, and his fingers gently stroked her palm.

  Lucy shivered. He was saying something, but she lost her concentration as she stared at his lips.

  “Lucy?”

  “Hmm?”

  “We’re not all jerks, you know.”

  “No?” She tugged her hand from his.

  “No.”

  She bowed her head and reached for a bag of candy-coated, button-shaped chocolate pieces.

  “Those are engraved, too,” he noted. “Nice font.”

  Lucy tore open a bag and shoved a handful into her mouth.

  “Good?”

  “Amazingly satisfying,” she said around a mouthful. “I should have done this years ago.”

  “Thank you for the chocolate,” Jack said.

  “You’re welcome.” She met his gaze. “Thanks for listening, Jack.”

  “I’m honored you shared with me.”

  “I didn’t really have an option. It was either spill my secret or let you think I’m a crazed hoarder. I knew that wouldn’t bode well for you approving the donation to the ranch.”

  “Lucy, look, we may have started out on the wrong foot...” He paused.

  “But...”

  Jack opened his mouth as if searching for the words.

  Lucy cupped a hand to her ear. “I do believe I hear the sound of a Plan B thudding to the ground.”

  “No. Lucy, come on. It’s not like that at all. I’m recognizing that I may be of use here at the ranch.”

  “You mean besides investigating us for corruption?”

  “That’s not why I’m here. I’m the fiduciary duty guy. Every organization can use a little assistance with management and reevaluation of fund distribution. The ranch has been around for five years, right?”

  She clutched the bag of chocolates in a death grip. “What are you saying, Jack?”

  “I’m saying that I’d like you to consider restructuring Big Heart Ranch.”

  Her stomach began to revolt. “Please, tell me you aren’t serious.”

  “I’m very serious.”

  Quickly swallowing, she handed him the keys and the bag of chocolate. “Lock up when you’re done.”

  “Lucy...”

  She held up a hand. “Jack, I thought I’d prepared for every possible disaster, but you’ve managed to pull the rug out from under me. For the first time in a very long time, I don’t know what to say.”

  “You’re making too much out of this. I’m talking about working together.”

  “You and me? Managing Big Heart Ranch?” she sputtered.

  “For a time. Yeah. See, I knew you’d get it.”

  “No. I didn’t say I get anything. In fact, I can’t imagine why you’d want to take over my ranch.”

  “Take over? What would I do with a ranch full of kids? I can barely handle one kid without breaking out in a cold sweat and hives.”

  Lucy stifled a sound of aggravation as she tried to move around him. She didn’t remember his shoulders being so wide.

  “Lucy, wait, please. We’re only talking. Discussion is healthy.”

  “I feel less than healthy at the moment. In fact, all this chocolate is making me somewhat nauseous. Please move.”

  “So that’s it? One minute we’re sharing chocolate and the next I’m gum on the bottom of your red boots?”

  “Jack, I’m tired and my blood sugar level is now off the charts, so while I’m willing to concede that I may be blowing this out of proportion, the idea of you restructuring my ranch is not something I want to discuss in this pa
rticular closet.”

  “You’re right. I apologize. We can discuss this next week. I’m sure everything will look much better on Monday.”

  “Somehow, I suspect everything will look exactly the same on Monday,” Lucy muttered as she walked out the door. She’d opened her heart and talked about her past for the first time in three years, and in return, Jack Harris had used her moment of weakness to betray her.

  Maybe he was right; she did always prepare for the worst-case scenario—and this was exactly why.

  Chapter Eight

  Jack knocked on the open office door and peeked in. Lucy’s sister had her head buried in paperwork, but it was obvious even with her head down that Emma Maxwell was a slightly taller version of Lucy, with long dark hair.

  He knocked again. “Excuse me? I’m looking for Lucy.”

  The petite brunette’s head popped up. She smiled and quickly stood. “You must be Mr. Harris. Our new volunteer.” She offered a conspiratorial wink.

  Jack approached the desk and held out a hand. “Jack. And you’re Emma?”

  “Yes. Delighted to meet you. How’s your aunt?”

  “Doing well, I think. She’s been mysteriously difficult to locate since she sent me out to the ranch.”

  Emma laughed.

  “Is your sister around?” he asked.

  “Lucy should be in anytime now. She did leave me a message to pass along to you.” Emma reached for a notepad. “Ice cream around six tonight.” She looked up. “Will that work for you?”

  “It might. If I had my phone to check my schedule.”

  “She confiscated your phone?” Emma nearly choked on a laugh.

  “Yeah, I tried to reach her all weekend on the bunkhouse phone without any response.”

  “Off the grid, no doubt, after I insisted she go home. That must have been some trail ride. Lucy looked like she was run over by a Mack Truck that backed up after to finish the job.”

  He smiled at the colorful yet oddly accurate description. “I’m a little surprised she went home without an argument. I haven’t known your sister long, but it’s pretty clear that she prefers to be the one giving orders.”

  “That’s our Lucy.” Emma glanced at the wall clock. “Do you want me to try to reach her? She’s probably caught in traffic, but she’ll have her Bluetooth on.”

  “Traffic? Where could there possibly be traffic around here?”

  “Downtown Timber gets downright busy on senior discount day at the Piggly Wiggly.”

  “I hadn’t considered that. I’ll try back later today.” He frowned. “Or maybe not. I have a chore list a mile long.”

  “Not that long, surely.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m Leo’s replacement, and everyone tells me that Leo did the work of six men.” He offered a wink.

  Emma chuckled in return. “That might be a slight exaggeration.”

  “I’m beginning to think not.” He glanced at his wrist where his watch used to be. “Do you suppose Lucy would mind if I used her desk to make a few quick calls? I’m researching a project for her.”

  “Jack, as far as I’m concerned, you can do whatever you like. If you’d be more comfortable, there’s a small conference room down the hall, as well.”

  “Does that mean you aren’t upset about the holdup of funds from the foundation?”

  “I’ve heard all sorts of good things about you from General Butterfield. So, no, I’m no longer concerned.”

  “You’re much more laid-back than your sister.”

  “Youngest child syndrome. And mostly everyone is more laid-back than my sister.”

  “Tell me, what do you think about the lodge?” Jack asked in an effort to gauge her reaction.

  “It’s a sad story isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. Too bad we can’t turn things around and make it a functional part of the ranch.”

  “Lucy’s broken engagement?”

  “No. I’m talking about Big Heart Ranch Retreat Center.” He smiled. “That’s my working name for the project.”

  “Okay, now you have my curiosity.”

  “Picture a hewn wood entrance arch with the name branded across the top in dark letters.” Jack gestured with his hands. “Can you see that?”

  Emma’s eyes lit up. “Yes. Yes, I can. Tell me more.”

  “I’m still working on the details, but I’m thinking combination vacation rental, event venue and guest ranch. The bottom line is a solid income stream for the ranch.”

  “That’s a fantastic idea. What did Lucy think?”

  Jack grimaced. “Your sister wasn’t as enthusiastic as you are, which is why I’m working on a full presentation.”

  “Shot you down, huh?”

  Jack nodded. “Faster than I could say ‘think about it.’ For some reason she’s taking my idea as a personal attack. I’m in awe of what Lucy does around here. My ideas for that house would make her life easier.”

  “Lucy doesn’t handle change well.”

  “I noticed.”

  “You have to remember that she’s a lot like Dub. She’s had responsibility on her shoulders all her life. Lucy never really got to be a kid. The only thing that ensures she can sleep at night is being in control.”

  He tilted his head, considering Emma’s words. “Any thoughts on how I can get Lucy on board?”

  “Try to understand that you’ve terrified her, Jack. However, there is hope. I have learned over the years that it’s always best to present ideas in layers. Give Lucy time to wrap her head around the idea first.”

  “You certainly know your sister.”

  “Yes. I do.”

  “So what do you suggest?”

  “It depends on you. Travis and I have different approaches. I move slowly, like I’m trying to gentle an anxious mare. Travis gallops ahead, does what he wants and apologizes later. He’d rather ask for pardon than permission. Both are surprisingly effective techniques. It simply depends on how much time you have.”

  He pondered Emma’s words for a moment, understanding dawning as he recalled the terror in her eyes when he’d suggested restructuring the ranch. How could he get Lucy to understand he wasn’t threatening her control, but trying to ease her burden?

  Jack turned at the sound of labored breathing behind him. A portly gentleman in a white short-sleeved dress shirt and mud-brown trousers, and with a faux-leather briefcase, filled the doorway, pausing to catch his breath.

  “Mr. Fillister,” Emma said. “I didn’t realize you have an appointment with Lucy?”

  “Woo-ee. Hot out there. I’m sweating like a politician on election day.” He wiped his brow with a rumpled handkerchief. “Lucy’s not around?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  “We didn’t officially have an appointment. I wanted her to review the new contracts for the office supplies and equipment.”

  “I can do that,” Jack said without thinking.

  Emma stared at him, eyes wide.

  “Would that be okay?” Jack continued. “I mean, it is what I do for a living. Contract law.”

  “Go ahead, Jack. Lucy should be along any moment, anyhow.”

  The salesman frowned as he assessed Jack. “I don’t think we’ve met, sir.”

  “Jackson Harris. I’m helping out at the ranch this summer.”

  “I can tell you ain’t from around here,” the man drawled.

  “How can you tell?”

  “That accent is a dead giveaway.”

  “I have an accent?”

  “Shore do.”

  “Huh. I had no idea.” Jack offered a hand, which was accepted.

  “Fred Fillister. Fillister World-Renowned Office Supply, Timber, Oklahoma.”

  “World-renowned?”

  Fred laughed. “In this part of the world, we like to say.”


  Jack couldn’t help but laugh, too. “I like that, Fred.”

  “Why don’t I show you gentlemen to the conference room?” Emma offered.

  It was less than thirty minutes before a door slammed in the building, followed by muttering and the rapid shuffling of feet outside the conference room. Lucy Maxwell had no doubt arrived. A moment later, the conference room door opened.

  She stood with one hand on the knob. With the other she pushed her bangs off her face. “Mr. Fillister, I’m so sorry I was away from my desk.” Her gaze took in the papers strewn across the table, the empty coffee cups and the box of doughnuts, and her eyes widened a fraction. Her jaw tightened. “Did we have an appointment? How may I assist you?”

  “Actually, your attorney has taken care of everything.”

  “My attorney?” Lucy’s gaze chilled as it slid from the salesman to him.

  Fred Fillister tilted his head as he assessed her. “Are you all right, Lucy? You look like you haven’t slept in a few days.”

  She moved into the room and smiled brightly. Too brightly. “I’m fine. Wonderful.” She glanced at the papers on the table again. “What’s all this?”

  “I brought those contracts for the office supplies and copiers.”

  Jack cleared his throat. “I’ve been reviewing the contracts with Fred here.”

  “Oh?” Her left eye twitched.

  “We agreed that Fillister World-Renowned Office Supplies can do better.”

  “A better deal. From Fred?” Lucy swallowed.

  “Yes. He’s going to increase the discount and throw in an extended warranty.”

  Her eyes rounded. “That sounds excellent.”

  Jack smiled. “Fred and I thought so. He understands that while you want to support local businesses, this is a competitive market.”

  “Yes. Definitely,” Lucy agreed.

  “I’ll get those contracts updated and stop by next week,” Fred added as he stood and brushed doughnut crumbs from his shirt. He pointed his index finger at Jack. “Front and center on the webpage?”

  “Right there with our other valuable donors.”

  Fred grinned. “’Preciate it, Jack.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Fillister,” Lucy chirped as the salesman waddled down the hall. She turned to Jack once their guest was out of earshot. “Front and center on the webpage?”

 

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